Want
by raileht
Summary: Kurt wants something from Diane.


**Want**  
by: raileht

**Summary: **Kurt wants something from Diane.  
**Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.  
**Rating:** T, to be safe

**Note:** _Written and posted at the Christine Baranski Community on October 6, 2011_

**Song used:**  
Lady Antebellum, _Friday Night_

* * *

"Good morning_—_"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the blonde hurricane all but blew past him, grabbing a slice of toast off his plate while the one next to his was left untouched_—_the same one that was supposed to be _her_ plate.

"What? Where are you_—_"

"I have to get in early," was the answer that cut him off and he felt the whoosh of air behind him when the hurricane made another pass. This time the mug not too far from the one he had his hand curled around on disappear in less than a nanosecond. "Jamieson. Emergency. I want to kill him. I might."

"Wait, what about_—_" the next victim of the assault was his other toast, making a fast exit with one swipe of a seemingly invisible hand.

"No time," another whoosh of air, "I'm late, actually. I might kill him. I'm sorry."

A clank then another whoosh of air and the mug was back again, this time empty save for a few drops.

"I'll see you tonight," hurried the hurricane and then there was something akin to a kiss on the top of his hair that felt less like affection and more grade school dodge ball than anything. "Thanks for breakfast!"

A thump and a very unladylike curse, a swing of the kitchen door and then nothing_—_silence and a parody of calm, a bland remake of the previous one that surrounded him before the hurricane that just passed through. And since this was a hurricane, there _were_ casualties.

One drained coffee cup, an untouched plate, two never to be recovered perfectly toasted pieces of bread and a lonely morning person on what _was_ a lovely Monday morning-not too bad, considering what kind of casualties usually come with such an occurrence but you would have to be an onlooker to understand.

It's an altogether different matter when you're the victim of such occurrence.

He stared at his cup then the empty red one next to his.

Men don't sigh, at least, he didn't think so but what he did was pretty close to that.

A few hours later, when lunch came around, his phone became found itself blinking incessantly on and off every few seconds or so.

_"Hey, I'm sorry...can't do lunch either. I'll make it up to you. I'm really thinking about killing him. You would help me hide the body, won't you? Wait. Scratch that. I never said that...god, I hate that man."_

End message.

His only consolation, he thought, was the fact that she'd left the message herself instead of her assistant. That was a good thing. It was thoughtful of her. And yes, he wasn't blind to the fact that he was consoling himself with something that was really quite small, considering.

Once again Kurt McVeigh found himself doing the same thing he did that morning.

But, again, men _do not_ sigh.

* * *

"Hey, about tomorrow night_—_"

Diane Lockhart stopped when he looked up and saw that all too familiar apologetic face then found himself frowning. He'd been seeing that expression on her face a little too much in the last three days and already he knew he didn't have to hear the rest of her probably practiced speech to realize that he was, once again, being dumped.

Any other man would be angry, in fact, he _was_ a little, but he knew her and knew what he was getting into right from the get go. He was a patient man and there _were_ days when things weren't like this and, as impossible it may seem at the moment, she _was_ capable of _not_ making that face around him for weeks on out. Sometimes things just snowed her in, which he understood, especially with the client that seemed quite eager to bang on her door every chance he could.

"What's up?" he asked and he saw the look of surprise flash across her features right before she caught herself and hid the expression.

"I can't go out tomorrow...Jamieson_—_"

He nodded, slowly, "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Mhm," he nodded, "He's a pain and all. I get it."

She stared at him then broke into a grin, grabbing the book he'd been reading and tossed it on the coffee table across. Easily, she slid next to him but close enough that she was practically _on_ him, draping her legs across the length of her couch.

"What's this?" he asked, grinning just because he couldn't help himself.

"You," she smiled and he found her lips pressing on his, softer than the way they'd fallen on his head that Monday morning. She'd kissed him a few times before in the last few days, but this one was better because she was actually focused _entirely_ on him, "You are an amazing, wonderful man."

Plus, the brilliant smile on her face helped too.

"Aw, shucks, ma'am," he pretended to be coy, teasing her and thankful that even in the most stressful days she could find it in herself to show him affection.

"You are," she smiled, giving him a kiss again, her arms snaking around his neck and he found himself, once again, unable to resist holding her. If he was ever angry, he could not remember to do so then. He never could whenever she got like that. It was nice.

"So who is this Jamieson guy anyway?" he asked after a moment, leaning back while she relaxed against him. She had turned on some music, but for the life of him, he could not decipher what it was exactly. It was jazz, as far as he knew, a personal choice of hers that had honestly surprised him but then again, when didn't she surprise him anyway?

"New client," she shrugged, "Same story_—_rich, powerful but at the end of the day, just a little boy. He's trying to start a branch of his business here, but we're haggling with a few businesses in the area."

"Sounds like work," he said casually then tilted his head sideways, "Although, you know, if I didn't know better and, ya know, if I wasn't so amazing and wonderful_—_" he easily grabbed the hand that reached out to swat him and placed a kiss on it before continuing as if he hadn't been interrupted, "I'd be jealous. You keep spending time with him, talking about him, leaving me here to my lonesome..."

"I know, I know," she sighed_—_because women _do_ sigh_—_and ran her fingers through his hair, making him suppress a shiver. "But I will make it up to you. You've been so great about this, really."

He smiled, "Yeah, well, just 'cause I'm so great don't expect I won't hold you to that, alright?"

She grinned, "Of course." Then she rolled her eyes, "I never called you great."

"It was implied."

Her eyes widened, "Wow, you _are_ capable of being a jackass."

"But I am a _great_, wonderful, amazing jackass."

"Lucky me."

* * *

A cancelled reservation.

It wasn't the first and it won't be the last. That's okay.

Although he wasn't sure the same could be said with the restaurants in the city. He had a feeling they _might_ just end up being blackballed. Or something.

Cue a sigh-that-wasn't-a-sigh.

* * *

"I'm_—_"

"If that's an apology, no way."

A silence came over the line, as he expected it would.

"But_—_"

"You owe me, Lockhart," he said, grinning a little though he knew very well he was skating on thin ice. "I'm coming to collect and yes, this means I am coming to pick you up right now."

"But_—_"

"No buts unless it's an altogether different butt under a different context," he said then marveled how he could say that without laughing, "Come on, get ready. It's Friday night, you owe me, you promised and Jamie-whoever can come back next week. You're mine."

"Kurt..."

"A deal's a deal, honey," he said simply, "I've been a patient man, but this is non-negotiable."

And with that, he did the unthinkable.

He hung up on Diane Lockhart._  
_

___I don't wanna be your Monday morning heading back to work_  
_Stuck in traffic going slow, nothing on the radio_  
_I don't wanna be another chore to check off on your list_  
_Of things you gotta do and places that you gotta go_  
_Oh, no _

"What're you doing?"

Nothing.

"Diane? Hello?" he tilted his head to the side then summoned his most convincing judge's voice he could, "Miss Lockhart!"

Her head snapped up, wisps of blonde locks flying as her head whipped around in his direction. Her startled deer caught in the headlines look was enough to make him chuckle.

"Well, hello there," Will Gardner grinned.

"What?" she asked, schooling her features before slipping her phone back onto her desk.

"You look like someone just went 'Dude, where's your car?' on you."

"Excuse me?" her brows furrowed, which only propelled him into chuckling again.

"Never mind," Will shrugged, "What's up? You look...weird. Everything okay with Kurt?"

"How-never mind, everything's fine," she shook her head. She would chastise him about eavesdropping but why bother? He would deny it and never admit he'd been doing just that so why bother? "I was telling him I can't make it tonight but he hung up on me."

Will nodded, "Two things."

Diane looked up, an eyebrow raised in a silent inquisition.

"One, bravo," he mocked a bow, "That takes balls and two...well, I'm not surprised."

She rolled her eyes, "You men always stick together."

"We don't," he shook his head, "I play dirty, you know that, but in this case...it's warranted. Four nights straight and I've seen you make one cancellation after another. This would have been night five."

Diane stared at him for a moment before nodded, sitting back in her chair, "Go on."

"He's been very understanding, clearly, but a guy can only take so much," he shrugged, "I'd have cut bait a long time ago, personally."

She rolled her eyes, "I would hardly compare you both..."

"Of course not," he grinned, "But he's a guy. Patience can only run for so long." He looked around, catching sight of the associates still milling about, carrying tablets and folders before turning back to his partner, "I think they have it under control. You're due for a night, Diane."

"Jamieson_—_"

"Is a prick who won't know the difference whether it's you or a first year billing him," he shrugged, "The world won't fall apart if you take a night for yourself, you know."

She smiled a little, "He's on his way, wouldn't take no for an answer. I owe him."

"I can imagine," he grinned then headed for the door, "Don't do anything I wouldn't."

Diane laughed, "Is there _anything_ you wouldn't do?"

His answer was a shake of a fist over his shoulder, his laugh following not too far after.

* * *

Diane was waiting by the time he got there.

Seated behind her desk, her things on the couch and a serious expression on her face, which she made sure was perfectly in place when he walked into the room. He was prompt, arriving exactly at half past six as they'd agreed that morning.

He was dressed in a dark blue button down, jeans and a pair of black loafers she had bought as a gag gift that backfired because he'd been wearing them. Not that she objected_—_he looked good in them-so she considered it a win, either way.

_No man should be allowed to look good in jeans, especially in his age_, her mind whispered and it was enough to threaten a smile breaking her composure as her eyes met his across the room. He was maintaining his ground and she was making the best appearance of not budging.

It was all in the matter of who broke first.

"So," he began after a moment and she did a mental cheer, "Are you going to sit there all night or am I rolling you down to the car?" He grinned, "It would be _very_ funny but I don't think that'll do too well with your image around here."

She crossed her arms over her chest and remained silent.

"This is you making it up to me?" he cocked his head to the side, "'Cause I gotta tell you, you ain't batting a thousand, honey."

She continued to stare but it didn't take long until his shoulders went slack and he gave her a tired expression.

"Fine," he shrugged, "You wanna stay here? Alright, but I'm letting you know...the dogs are at the house and I'll be staying there tomorrow. You have fun with your new boyfriend."

Kurt headed out and the moment his back was turned, her facade fell and she quite melted as she watched him go. So she hurried, bolting from her chair and swiping her bag, case and her coat from the couch and caught him before he could clear the small lobby between her office and Will's.

"Oh, you're here?" he pretended to be surprised.

"You idiot," she said simply, hooking her arm around his without needing it be offered and leaned into him as they walked. "You said I was yours for tonight and you leave me like that? Some guy."

"Sorry, there was this gargoyle in your office_—_"

The rest of his teasing remark was cut off by a sharp swat on his arm then their laughter followed._  
_

___I wanna set you free_  
_I wanna take you high_  
_I wanna be, wanna be your Friday night_

Diane smothered her laughter behind her hand.

They'd been laughing quite a bit and she was pretty sure they were the only ones making noise in the place. She ducked her head, hair falling from behind her ear and down to her cheek as she continued to laugh, her head close to his as he too tried to contain his composure.

All in all, she wasn't entirely sure just _what_ they were laughing at but she was pretty sure it had to be just everything. They'd been sharing funny stories, anecdotes from childhood to some goofy things from the latter part of their lives.

She wasn't sure who was winning as he had just tickled her with glee with a tale about shaving his brother's head and making him look like a monk after she shared a tale from when she was ten and going through what had to be the most mischievous part of her childhood. That story had ended with a nanny quitting and her father accepting that his son and daughter indeed were a rowdy handful.

Diane could not fault the woman, considering she had lain still in the kitchen floor of their home, eyes closed and posed in the oddest manner, pretending to be dead and apparently, doing a damn good job of it.

"Then there was a time our father was aiming for an authentic Christmas and Robbie _really_ wanted to see Santa Claus," Kurt went on, "To prove that Santa wasn't real_—_he was ten, I was told that was the age to let go_—_I lit the fireplace."

"Oh, god," Diane said, guessing what was coming herself.

"Turns out dad was going butt first with his bag after spending the day having the chimney cleaned," he chuckled, "And to make a long story short_—_I lit my dad's ass on fire on Christmas Eve."

The laughter flowed throughout the night, secluded in the corner of the restaurant, laughing to themselves and enjoying the night away._  
_

___We can rock together, let the good times roll forever_  
_Fill up our cup make a memory, drink it up_  
_I don't wanna miss another minute, wanna live it with you_  
_'Neath the blue sky fallin' in love_

"You're off key."

She looked up, wrinkling her nose at him and giving him the haughtiest look she could muster despite the smile on her face, "Off key my ass! Your hearing is off key."

"Doesn't make sense," he grinned, handing her a glass of wine while she sat curled in the living room. She had kicked off her shoes and curled her legs underneath her. Their dinner had gone well and had been full of laughter and while it was a little late, they were both wide awake enough to decide for a night cap.

"I'm enjoying my Friday night," she shrugged, "I'm allowed to stop making sense."

"Now _that_ makes sense," he gave her salute with his drink.

He stopped, checking the window then stood up just as the music began to change. It was still the smooth jazz she liked, but it was in a different tempo. He kind of liked it, even though he'd never been a man for jazz.

"Where are you going?" she asked, frowning a little as he kicked aside his shoes and stood with socked feet on the carpeted floors of her living room. Behind them, the fire cackled and cracked beneath the smooth music.

"Doing something for the first time," he said, bending down to retrieve her glass from her hand and pulled her up to stand with him. She followed with only a meek sound of protest, the drink making her more agreeable as well as the tone of the night.

She was shorter without her heels and even while barefoot, she fit with him as he pulled her close, humming in the silliest manner before turning both of them and began to dance.

"What are we doing?"

"Dancing," he replied, breathing in the scent of her hair that mixed pleasantly with her perfume, "I've got two left feet but I think I can do this."

"You're doing it," she chuckled throatily next to his ear as she placed her hands on his shoulders. "And doing it well."

"As long as I don't step on your toes?"

Diane chuckled, "Yep."  
_  
_

___I wanna be your lemonade in the shade_  
_Money in your pocket cause you just got paid babe_

"If they didn't know us_—_"

"You mean _you_, of course."

She ignored him and went on, dragging him behind her absently as they headed up the stairs, her other hand trailing on the banister. "They would have kicked us out for ruining the ambiance of their restaurant."

"Please, it helped," he chuckled, "It was too quiet, too stuffy. Someone had to amuse themselves, why not you and me?"

Diane smiled over her shoulder, winking at him, "We did have fun, didn't we?"

"Not bad for a Friday," he said simply, "Considering you were going to cancel on me."

She stopped, midway up the steps and turned to him and he stopped as well, resting one elbow on the wood finish while his hand dangled holding on to hers. Her hand held on even as they were linked and gave him a soft smile, "You really have been wonderful."

"Yes, I have," he nodded solemnly.

"And so humble."

He nodded, "That too."

Diane broke into a grin, "You're trying so hard to bait me."

"I like feisty," he shrugged then brought her hand up to his lips, brushing them against her knuckles then said in the most serious manner, "I'm only this way with you because you make me _want_ to be this way."

She smiled lazily, "Then this means I still owe you?"

Kurt nodded, "Yeah, pretty much."

"Then," she tugged his hand towards her, pulling him until he was only a step below her, towering over him with the extra step and slithered her arms around his beck, smiling down on him. "How would you like me to repay you, Mr. McVeigh."

"It's simple, Miss Lockhart," he grinned, rising for a moment to steal a fleeting yet affectionate kiss from her lips, "I only ask for Friday."

"Another Friday?" she smiled, "Sounds doable...but is that enough?"

Kurt shook his head, "No. I want Friday...every single Friday for the rest of our lives."

"For the rest..." she stopped, staring at him and absently tucked her hair behind one ear as she froze for a moment, "For the rest of our lives."

"Yes," Kurt nodded, "You, me, Fridays...for the rest. Of. Our. Lives."

His eyes never left hers and she stared right back at him, never letting go even as her mind worked in a thousand different ways faster than the speed of light.

"You mean..."

"Any way you want," he shrugged a little, "Just as long as it's you and me. What do you say, Lockhart?"

___I wanna set you free_  
_I wanna take you high_  
_I wanna be, wanna be your Friday night_

Diane stared at him for a moment before letting a slow smile spread across her lips, "I think..."

"You think...?" he prompted, nodding up at her, letting a few pieces of her hair brush his face.

"I think that sounds perfect."

"Every Friday," he hummed.

"Just you and me," she smiled.

"For the rest of our lives."

She kissed him, "Perfect."_  
_

___Wanna be your Friday night_  
_Friday night_


End file.
